petrichor
by the moonlight mona lisa
Summary: rain will make the flowers grow. — mikhail, oracle.


**i don't even know what this is. this ship is totally crack.**

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><p><strong>petrichor<strong>

**(rain will make the flowers grow.)**

**.**

**.**

The mountain is much, much colder than he expects it to be. Except it's summer, and there's no snow, and for some reason, he finds himself shivering as he keeps going. It's very, very strange.

Maybe he's getting older, he thinks. He scoffs at himself. Getting older doesn't necessarily mean feeling cold all of a sudden, does it? It's just the mountain. Mountains are higher up with thinner air, so they're naturally much colder, right?

Oh, whatever. He continues to walk around the mountain, as if to look for something. Perhaps the source of all the stupid cold air.

"Oh, dear, are you lost?"

The owner of the voice is much prettier than he first thought. When he looks up, it's a woman with pink hair and beautiful crimson eyes. She's very short, he notes, and stares at her and her glistening pale skin. She looks sort of like a rabbit.

"No, I don't think I am," he finally answers.

"Just checking," she says with a giggle, covering her mouth with her long sleeves, "Good day then, sir!"

He almost doesn't want to let her walk away, but what could he say? Mikhail had never been too good at these kinds of things.

"Wait…" he says, slowly, almost as if to make sure she doesn't hear it.

She turns around, a confused look on her face.

"What's… what's your name?"

She giggles, "If I told you, I'd have to kill you!"

He laughs too, but her stare is hardly what he'd call humorous. She looks intensely serious, as if that joke was only for her to laugh at and that he could never understand. He gulps, ready to apologize because she certainly looks like she's expecting one.

When he goes to open his mouth, she interrupts. "Oh, I'm running late! I'll see you around!"

He never catches her name that day. Such a shame.

.

.

The weather is just right to play his violin, despite the fact that Lillian has had to leave. He doesn't mind, though, he'll play alone. He's been travelling on the mountains as of late. Perhaps he's trying to catch a glimpse of that woman… Silly, as she's probably not a normal visitor to the mountain, let alone the two towns.

As soon as he starts to play, his head is cleared and he feels much calmer. Yes, he could forget all about that woman like this.

"What a beautiful song."

He looks up to find her sitting on a rock, one leg over the other, cheek in her palm. She blinks and he blinks back, confused.

"Where did you come from?"

"Oh, I live around here. I'm surprised I've never heard you play before. You play really beautifully!"

"Thank you."

He's used to compliments yes, but this woman makes it all the more harder to concentrate.

"What's your name?" she asks, smile gracing those rabbit-like features.

"Mikhail," he answers, slowly putting his violin away.

She frowns, "Oh, you're not going to play anymore?"

"Did you want me to?"

"Well, quite frankly, yes. I don't get many visitors, and none can play an instrument like you."

"You should get a lot of visitors though, shouldn't you? Since you live on the mountain and all"

Ouch. That was a little rough.

"Well, I don't come out of where I live very often, you see."

Oh. Okay.

"I guess I'll have to wait to hear you play then, hm? Oh well, I'll be here, so come back tomorrow or whenever and I'll have a listen! I'd love to hear you play again!"

And just like that, she's gone.

.

.

He goes back tomorrow, and she's sitting on the same rock, smiling at him, with those eyes staring him up and down.

"You kept your promise."

"Well, yes, I am a man of my word."

"Good to know," she giggles.

Her laugh is gorgeous, with the capability of knocking him off the mountain. It's too pretty for her own good, and she seems to know just how to use it, and how to use it well.

He starts to take out his violin, and just as he's about to play, it begins to rain. Drizzle, actually, but he's still concerned. He doesn't want his violin to get ruined from such a thing as rainwater.

"Oh, dear, what a shame. It seems I'll have to wait longer for you to play."

He stares at her. Is _that _all she ever worries about?

"Well, I don't want you to get soaked, so come with me," she says, grabbing his hand from under that long sleeve. Her skin is soft, and just as he thought, her hand isn't wet from the rain. Her grip is tight, but yet gentle and nervous, as if she's afraid to touch him.

"Here we are."

"Just where is _here_?"

"This is where I live, silly!"

.

.

Her home is nice. It's got a huge cauldron in the middle, but he's not one to judge such a nice woman.

However, he'll question her. He's got to, before curiosity eats him alive. And when he does ask, she responds properly with a big smile.

"I'm very into alchemy," she smiles, "As is my sister. Though she's got a, um, _different_ kind of work."

Her giggle is very, very cute, but also awkward and nervous.

"Here you go," she hands him a cup of tea, "Drink up!"

He stares at it for a minute. "Oh, come now! I don't want you to get sick! You got more soaked then I did!"

He drinks it then, "See, was that so hard?"

She giggles almost too much for one with a laugh that pretty.

"Do you always hide inside when it rains?" he asks, half expecting a simple answer.

"No, not usually. I collect rain water for potions and what not, but… I like the rain and the sound it makes. It smells nice, too, and it makes the flowers all pretty!"

She looks outside, "Oh, it's starting to pick up… You're free to stay the night, if you'd like."

"I don't know if I should…"

She shrugs, "Well, whatever you want to do. Though, if it starts to pick up some more, then it could turn into a horrible storm, and… you shouldn't go out in that."

"A little fall of water can't hurt me."

Her eyes glisten with concern, "But… then you'd really get sick, and you'd have to drink medicine instead of my potions."

Just as she finishes that sentence, thunder claps in the background. _What a damn coincidence._

"So, what are you going to do, Mikhail?"

"I… suppose I'll stay."

She smiles, "Great!"

.

.

It turns out she's right. The storm is horrible, and she sits with him and talks with him about many things. Then, suddenly, she yawns.

"You should get some sleep."

"Will you be alright?"

"Of course," he smiles.

"I don't believe you," she says with her eyebrows raised and some kind of weird frown.

"If you drink this, it'll help you sleep."

"Thank you."

It smells like rain, and it looks like there's some kind of flower petals in it. She smiles at him and waits for him to drink it.

When he does, he's honestly surprised. It tastes much better than he thought it would. He falls asleep fast that night, much faster than he ever has in his whole life.

.

.

When he leaves in the morning, he's surprised at how the mountain looks after the storm. She follows him out and points to a flower.

"Look!"

"It's very beautiful."

"That's why I love rain," she starts, "Because it makes the flowers grow."

"I didn't know rain could create so much beauty," he begins, staring around at the way the wind gently blew the leaves off the trees onto the ground. They form an intricate pattern.

"Well, things aren't always how they seem."

Such a cliché, but when the words leave her lips, it's as if no one has said them before. And then he kisses her because _god damn it _he _needs _to kiss her _right now_. Her lips are as soft as her skin, and she gently kisses back. It was very chaste, but that's alright. That's all he needs right now.

Her blush afterwards is endearing.

"Oh, um…"

Yes, he doesn't have much to say right now.

"My name is Ulyssa, if you were wondering…"

"I'll come to play for you sometime, Ulyssa."

He'll play her a song that sounds like rain and flowers growing.

.

.

**end**

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><p><strong>the sister that Ulyssa was talking about was the Witch Princess. idk, i always thought that the Harvest Goddess and the Witch Princess were sisters and then they added the Oracle and everything was perfect.<strong>

**thanks for reading. xoxo.**


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